In Time, In Tense
by trecebo
Summary: Touched by an Angel-Logan x-men crossover. Complete!
1. In Time, In Tense 1&2

"In time, In Tense Part 1 Chapter 1"

You are asking yourself, "Self, can a crossover between TBAA and an X-man be done? With Logan? Hmmm..." Angels and berserkers--whatta combo. This takes place in the real world which is an alternate reality to Logan's world (aka Wolverine as a mutant.) No adamantium here. No claws. But does that make our boy any less Logan--any less angsty? I don't think so.

There will be cameos of other X-men. No pairs as such. Also, since I wrote this before Marvel created the whole Logan background story, this adds to the AU.

Disclaimer: Martha Williamson owns hers, Stan Lee owns his, Methuselah concept is mine. No money here, baby.

In Time, In Tense

Chapter One

Andrew and Monica sat in an old red convertible watching people go by. They were waiting for Adam who had news on their latest assignment.

The tall blonde angel grinned at his friend and asked, "Where did Tess say she would be today?"

"She's with the choirmaster. Something about a special request."

"And she let you use the car?"

"Andrew!" The petite auburn-haired angel elbowed him in the side.

Their attention was diverted by the sound of a loud Harley pulling into the parking lot of Phil's Bar and Grill. Monica watched with interest as a stocky male about her height got off the bike, stashed his helmet and stalked inside the bar. She turned to her friend.

"What an interesting human. He seems to burst with energy, even his hair." She giggled.

Andrew smiled back. "That is Logan, Angel-girl."

"Logan. What a nice Irish-sounding name. He looks like a man with a story to tell."

From next to her a voice replied, "If you only knew the half of it."

The two angels greeted their gray-eyed friend.

"Adam! Is he our assignment?"

"Well, yes and yes."

Monica looked puzzled. "I don't follow."

"Have you heard of the 'special ones'?" This from Andrew.

"Aren't all humans special?"

"Yes, but there are a rare few that...require more time that others."

Adam spoke. "Did you ever meet Methuselah?"

"Oh, yes! What a lovely man. He liked my singing but Tess says he's tone deaf."

The two angels of death hid their grins.

"O-o-o-o-h-kay," continued Adam. "Well, one of old M's genetic traits was longevity-"

"-Hence the term 'Old as Methuselah'-" interjected Monica.

"-And it is a rare recessive gene."

"In today's population of billions, only four or five people could even carry the gene."

"And this Logan is one of those?"

"Yeah."

"How old is he, Adam?"

"Even he isn't sure. Life isn't easy for these few. There are several drawbacks to longevity. Outliving everyone you know-"

"But he looks so young."

"Part of the gene is God's built-in ability for the body to heal itself, on high speed. It slows the aging process in extremis."

"Does anyone know how old he is?"

"I don't know, Monica, but Andrew might."

They turned to look at the green-eyed angel who had the grace to look really uncomfortable.

"Logan has seen and done a lot. He had also been the subject of government testing."

"What have they done?" she quietly asked.

Andrew shook his head. "You don't want to know."

"Part of our job is to help undo some of that damage," stated Adam.

"So what do we do?"

"Help him remember."

-----------------------------------

"In Time, In Tense Part 1 Chapter 2"

Chapter Two

Logan sat at the bar, nursing a lone beer. It had been a long day and he was focused inward on his thoughts. The bartender approached, disturbing his reverie.

"Can I get you anything else?"

"Nah," Logan nodded toward the cue rack behind the bar. "Gimme a cue."

The barkeeper passed the stick saying "Five dollars an hour."

Slapping down a twenty, Logan growled "No problem."

"No problem."

Andrew and Monica observed in silence from a booth toward the back. They watched the man play for an hour or so. He won a few games and lost a few. Strangely enough, he refused to play any females. The current opponent was a big, burly biker and the game had just started.

Andrew tilted his head as if listening to an inaudible voice.

"Monica, I've got to take someone home. Talk to him. He needs to remember some things." He hugged her and said, "I'll meet you later."

"Okay, Andrew."

As the tall blonde angel left, he passed by the table, crossing next to Logan. Straightening, Logan saw Monica watching him from across the room.

'CRACK'-The big guy shot and a ball sank as the phone rang behind the bar.

Adam answered the phone and called out "Laurence? Is there a Laurence here?"

The big guy at the pool table turned. "What's up?"

"It's your wife. Her water just broke."

"Oh man! Sorry, dude. I gotta bail!"

Watching in stunned silence, Logan stood at the table until the door bounced closed behind the now departed Laurence.

"Hope everything goes all right for ya, bub."

At the bar, Adam handed Monica a cue and gestured toward the darkhaired man.

"Excuse me. May I join you and finish Laurence's game?"

Turning back, Logan appraised her sharply. "Do ya even know how ta play? I don't feel like coachin' no rookies!"

"I can play well-when I need to," replied the Irish angel, her brogue flared with a grin.

Logan made the 'it's-your-shot' gesture and Monica proceeded to clear the table. As the eight sank unto the side pocket, she held out her hand to Logan.

"Thank you for letting me play. My name is Monica."

"Logan."

"Are ya Irish, Mr. Logan?"

"Just Logan and not that I know of."

"Pity. You remind me of some lads I once knew."

"Well, I've got that kind of face," he grinned.

"Actually, ya don't. You are like no one I've ever met."

Logan paused a minute to think about it. Pointing to a booth, he asked, "Join me?"

"I'd love to."

Signaling Adam at the bar, the twosome sat down.

"I'll have a coffee-black-and the lady will have--mocha-latte, decaf if ya got it."

Nodding, Adam went to prepare the drinks.

Monica was amazed. "How did you know?"

Logan tapped the side of his nose.

"Oh my. What a neat gift to have."

His eyebrows went up. "Darlin', you have a unique way of seein' things."

"I suppose I do. That's what I inherited from my Father."

They paused as Adam returned with the coffees. Logan thanked him. Adam nodded and left winking at Monica before he turned away.

After an awkward pause Logan asked, "So, where'd your friend go?"

"He had some business to attend to. Family emergency."

"Don't know much about that. Well, my adopted family, yeah, but I don't remember my own folks."

"Oh, I'm so sorry."

"Why? 'S'not yer fault." He seemed perplexed by her comment.

"But not being able to remember a mother's smile or a father's loving embrace-" she faded away seeing the look on his face.

Logan became very quiet, studying the rim of his coffee cup. When he spoke, he talked as if to himself but enough so Monica could hear him.

"I haven't really thought about my real folks in a long while." He shook his head. "One of the kids at the school, his parents came ta visit. Funny thing, I didn't think much about it, 'til now."

Monica listened until he finished speaking and the two sat quietly.

Adam came over again. "I'm getting ready to close up. Do either of you need to call for a ride?"

"Nah. I got my bike outside. What about you, darlin'?"

"Well, Andrew's not back yet."

"Can I give you a ride?"

As they exited, Monica replied, "That would be lovely."

"Where to?"

Closing her eyes for a moment, Monica gave him an address. Logan straddled the Harley and offered her the helmet. "Hop on. Wear this."

"What about you?"

"I got a hard head."

Monica pulled the helmet on and sat behind Logan. Starting the bike he yelled, "Hold on, darlin'!"

Pulling out onto the road, they sped toward Monica's destination. It was late Sunday night so there wasn't any traffic. Near the outskirts of town, they stopped at the last red light.

"You okay?!"

Monica nodded. Logan checked for cross traffic and pulled out as the light turned green. Out of nowhere came a black car, lights out, which struck the pair broadside. The two bodies flew through the air both landing with sickening thuds. The motorcycle lay smoldering, a twisted mass of metal and leather. Almost instantly two beings appeared. Adam was nearest Logan, concern written on his face. Further behind him, Henry knelt beside Monica, his face aghast. It wasn't often that angelic beings were traumatically hurt while in human form.

"She's unconscious right now but not for long. What is the word?"

"Not yet. Wait here with them. I need to find Andrew."

Nodding, Henry moved to where he could observe the injured pair. Adam had already gone.

-------------------

Constructive comments are welcome. Please, no rocks or flames. The Brotherhood is not welcome.


	2. In Time, In Tense 3&4

"In Time, In Tense"  
  
Adam, Andrew and Monica...mangled motorcylces and Henry...tempted????  
  
TBAA real, Marvel AU.  
  
Disclaimer: Martha has hers, Stan has his and me...I'm just borrowing.  
  
PG-13 for accident scene violence.  
  
In Time, In Tense  
  
Chapter Three  
  
Andrew appeared at he and Monica's meeting place. He had just finished looking around when Adam arrived.  
  
"Andrew. There's been an accident."  
  
Looking perplexed the blonde angel replied, "I wasn't called on it."  
  
"It wasn't your call to take."  
  
Adam's seriousness caused Andrew's radar to ping.  
  
"Adam."  
  
"It's Monica and Logan."  
  
-----  
  
Henry watched as Logan began to stir. Groaning, he sat up slowly, feeling his bones begin to knit together and his skin begin to regenerate itself. He raised his hand to his head feeling sticky blood from cuts and scrapes.  
  
'Where is my helmet,' he thought and then he remembered. "Monica!"  
  
He realized that she was nowhere near him. He spotted her and saw that she was very still. 'Crap.' Logan gingerly made his way over to her, pausing from the pain and trying to avoid the shrapnel of his bike.  
  
Unseen, Henry knelt next Monica and spoke to her. "Hang on, girl, we're here with you. Just hang on."  
  
Logan reached the prone Monica, his fingers searching for a pulse. 'Weak and thready--not much time.' Tenderly, he checked for broken bones. "Oh, darlin'." He hesitated only a moment before deciding to remove her helmet.  
  
Monica awoke to the sounds of horrible groaning. She tried to look around, to see who needed help but in doing so realized the sounds were coming from her. She felt more than saw the form kneeling next to her.  
  
"Andrew?" Her voice was raspy and weak.  
  
"No, it's me, Logan."  
  
"What happened?" She was understandably confused. "I'm hurt."  
  
"Yeah, darlin', ya are."  
  
She tried to shift, to ease the pain spreading though her body. Logan cringed as she screamed. It was an all too familiar sound. He took off his jacket and tucked it around her trying to make her comfortable as possible. Monica started to cry softly.  
  
"Hold on, darlin'."  
  
"Why am I hurt?" She whispered to herself. Henry still knelt silently beside her, unseen, quietly praying.  
  
Andrew and Adam appeared near the mangled Harley. As Andrew turned, taking in the wreckage, he saw Logan keeping vigil over Monica and started to rush over to them only to be restrained by a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Wait, my friend. You must wait."  
  
Chapter Four  
  
Unaware of the invisible onlookers, Logan assessed the situation. He had seen injuries like this before and knew they were fatal. He could practically smell death all around him. A slight movement by Monica interrupted his reverie.  
  
"There was a car. It hit us. It ran the light and hit us."  
  
Logan bowed his head. "I'm sorry, darlin'."  
  
"Why? You didn't do it."  
  
"People tend to get hurt when they are around me."  
  
A soft breeze blew across the pair and Monica tried to focus. It seemed to be telling her something. A message perhaps.  
  
"Andrew?"  
  
Across the way, Adam stayed the green-eyed angel with a slight shake of his head.  
  
"That yer friend?"  
  
Monica managed a weak nod before she faded out.  
  
Henry stood from his vigil over the pair and approached his fellow angels of death.  
  
"I have to go now. I've received another call."  
  
Adam nodded as Henry left. He could feel the tension in Andrew as they waited. Monica gasped and cried out. Adam grabbed his friend and forced him to look at his face. Eternal gray eyes met eternal green ones.  
  
"It has to be this way. If she can remember who she is despite the circumstances then he can remember who he is."  
  
Monica awoke again as the breeze flew softly across her skin. She moaned as she tried to remember something...something important. Seeing her movement, Logan framed her face with his hands.  
  
"Monica, darlin', you're hurt pretty bad. I need ta try and get ya some help."  
  
"No...don't leave me. There is something I need to tell you."  
  
He took her hand as the now increasing pain threatened to overwhelm her.  
  
The mysterious breeze swirled around the death angels and as one they approached the pair. Still unseen, Adam and Andrew listened to their fallen friend.  
  
"I—I was sent to help you, Logan. To help you remember that you are a man. But not just a man," she paused to catch her breath. "A man that God created."  
  
He shook his head. "Monica, ya don't know what I am. Even I don't know."  
  
"In those dark nights, when your soul cries out, Logan, God is there. He hears you in those times when you don't know which way is up."  
  
Logan tried to pull away, to turn in frustration. "But I have these memories. Horrible ones, that I don't remember doing. And I can't remember ma own life sometimes."  
  
"You are still God's creation regardless of what you remember." She paused.  
  
To Logan's keen eyesight, she seemed paler that before. Quietly, she continued.  
  
"The truth Will come. God has promised this: You shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free."  
  
Still holding her hand, he pondered her words for a moment before he looked her in the eye.  
"Does God see me when I'm angry, Monica? It ain't pretty."  
  
She smiled weakly. "God sees you, Logan, always." She paused, listened. "He knows the rages in your heart but He sees the depth of your love as well."  
  
Logan absorbed this but when Monica inhaled, grimacing, he became anxious. Time for the petite woman was slipping away.  
  
"Why is God concerned with an ol' canuck like me? Where is He now?"  
  
"God loves you very much, Logan, and He is here. I know you may not believe it, but I am an angel."  
  
The rough man tenderly brushed the side of her face. "Darlin', no angel I know had been hurt like you are." He spoke softly, barely above a whisper. "I've been around along time and I've seen things that most people wouldn't believe either."  
  
Logan became aware of Andrew and Adam a split second before they appeared in their dim-light haze. He breathed deeply, the scents of sandalwood and silver triggering a fast flood of memories. Sights, sounds, smells of a lifetime passed quickly. He opened his eyes, recognition flowing through his features.  
  
He spoke again to Monica in an even softer, sadder voice. "Monica, these," he indicated the two death angels, "Are very old 'friends' of mine. They can help me take care of you. They are real angels."  
  
Monica seemed unaware of the activity around her. It wasn't until Andrew knelt beside her that she opened her eyes.  
  
"Andrew?" She repeated herself, concentrating furiously. "My Andrew?"  
  
It wasn't until the angel took Monica's hand that Logan realized who she had been asking for all along.  
  
"Wait a minute...she's been askin' fer you...which means..."  
  
He was interrupted as Monica grabbed his hand, great joy showing on her face.  
  
"Oh, Logan, I am an angel, sent to remind you that you are His creation, no matter what the circumstances tell you. Just as these circumstances here and now," there was a pulse of light, "reminded me."  
  
Logan sat stunned for a moment as Monica stood before him whole and unbroken and bathed in the same golden light as Adam and Andrew.  
  
"People make choices, Logan, and the person who ran the light made one, too. But even damage to my human form didn't change who or what I was. I am a servant of God, just as you are God's beloved creation and NOTHING that man does can change that."  
  
"If God has seen what I've done..."  
  
Andrew touched Logan's shoulder. "Logan, look at me. God loves you for who you are. Sometimes, He doesn't like what you do but the love He has for you, it is so strong. Remember that."  
  
Logan looked up at Adam. "You were at the bar, too..."  
  
"God wanted you to remember that your loyalty, compassion and love come from Him."  
  
Adam touched Logan's head and immediately he was overwhelmed with memories of his childhood. Of his father laughing, telling stories. Of his mother reading to him. Of love, family and home. The angelic trio watched in awe as their Creator revealed to His creation a piece of himself he had lost. As Logan sat silently absorbing the torrent, Monica knelt beside him and place a gentle hand on the rough man's face. Tears were gliding down his cheeks.  
  
"I can see them. My father and mother," he whispered. "It's been so long."  
  
Monica smiled. "God has not forgotten you."  
  
Logan nodded and looked up at Adam. "And the rest?"  
  
"In time, old friend. You of all people have the time," Adam smirked, "but not the patience."  
  
Andrew spoke. "God wants to help you rebuild your memories by starting with the ones that are strongest. With your family as a foundation of truth, you can learn to tell which memories are true. Your family is nearby. Find them so you can start anew."  
  
Logan bowed his head in grief and relief for what he'd lost and found. When he looked up, they were gone and there was his Harley, good as new. He took a deep breath, got on the bike and disappeared into the night.  
  
The following day, he found the family he had lost. Flowers in hand, the man stood in front of the headstone and read the inscription, a single tear on his cheek.  
  
L R LOGAN BELOVED HUSBAND  
K M LOGAN BELOVED WIFE  
INTO THE ARMS OF OUR FATHER  
PLEASE PROTECT OUR SON  
  
To be continued-  
  
Questions, comments, reviews?  



	3. Time Out

Time Out  
  
Disclaimer: Moonwater (Martha) and Marvel (Stan) own theirs and that is how it should be. I don't want to pay the food bill.  
  
TBAA crossover with AU Logan and company.  
  
PG  
  
On the hillside stood a lone figure watching the scene below. It was a group of young people in their late teens and early twenties playing basketball. In her angelic form Monica could observe them without being seen.  
  
There were several redheads, each a different shade, one with a white slash.  
  
'Tess would be interested in that,' she thought. 'I wonder if any are Irish?'  
  
A tall man wearing sunglasses passed the ball to a rather pale blonde man who proceeded to dunk it. The ball went back into play thrown in by a brute of a man who appeared to have blue hair.  
'Oh, my,' she giggled as the ball was quickly stolen by a lithe young black woman with snow white hair.  
  
In the midst of the fray was a muscular man with a wiry hair cut. He rebounded a missed shot and in the process flattened the blonde guy.  
  
"Hey, watch it, Logan!"  
  
"Sorry, Icecube."  
  
The wind shifted direction and Monica knew it was time. Logan helped his friend to his feet, then sniffed the air. Looking around he saw the angel on the hill waving to him.  
  
"Time out. I gotta go talk ta somebody," he snarled as he stalked up the hill.  
  
His friends looked after him. Seeing no one else, they wandered over to the nearby picnic table.  
  
"Dat seem strange, non?"  
  
"Ah don't know, shugah, Ah jus' don't know."  
  
At the top of the hill Logan waited for Monica to materialize in her human form. 'Danged if I'm gonna talk ta thin air.'  
  
"Are ya spyin' on me, darlin'?"  
  
"Why, no, Logan. I was just wanting to talk with you. See how it's going."  
  
"Well, it ain't."  
  
"Ah, I see—"  
  
"Do ya?"  
  
Monica stood silently as Logan glared at her. "No, I suppose I don't," she replied looking a bit forlorn.  
  
Refusing to be swayed by the Irish angel's sudden puppy-dog look, Logan growled and swung at the air. "Why does everyone seem ta think they need ta check on me?"  
  
"Well, baby, it could be that sign on your back that reads 'I'm brooding. Please check on me'."  
  
The man whirled in time to see a large ebony angel appear behind him.  
  
"Who the h- are you?"  
  
"Never you mind, baby! Monica, we need to go! The Father has a new assignment for us."  
  
"But Tess, I—"  
  
"No buts, Angel-girl. Let's go." With that, Tess disappeared.  
  
Monica smiled apologetically at Logan. "Maybe later we can talk."  
  
"Sure." He was a bit non-plussed at the rapid turn of events. Looking at where his visitor had been standing, he shook his head.  
  
"Come out, Gumbo."  
  
The tall auburn-haired youth stepped out form behind a tree.  
  
"She disappear?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Dat seem strange, non?"  
  
Logan rolled his eyes. "You don't know the half of it." He started back down the hill, dragging the younger man with him.  
  
"Let's go finish the game."  
  
To be continued-  



	4. In the Mean Time

In the Mean Time  
  
Disclaimer: Martha, Stan and others. Not me.  
  
Rating: PG-13 for Civil War violence. Not graphic.  
  
In the Mean Time  
  
"Andrew, just how old is Logan?"  
  
"I don't know. And I know that Logan himself doesn't know."  
  
The angelic pair sat on a park bench waiting for Tess. They were discussing a recent case they had worked when Tess appeared.  
  
"Well, babies, only God and those who need to know have the answer to that question." The large ebony woman embraced the duo in a welcoming hug.  
  
"Tess! How was the choir?"  
  
"Just wonderful, Angel-girl. Now, let's talk about our next assignment," she said, preparing to launch into their subject. However, a breeze blew by and distracted her for a moment.  
  
"Oh, babies, I have to go. It seems there's to be an encore with the choir. You two take the day off and relax a little. Have some fun because tomorrow will be hard work. Oh my." With that she disappeared leaving Andrew and Monica grinning in her wake.  
  
"Coffee?" asked Andrew.  
  
Monica flashed him a charming smile as they began to walk out of the park.  
  
-------  
  
Later that afternoon, the pair sat on the beach watching the surf. It was a peaceful autumn day, almost perfect. They watched in silence the world around them, observing the wonders of their Father's creation.  
  
At last Monica broke the silence.  
  
"About Logan...how long have you known of him?"  
  
"Well, let's see. I met him shortly after I was assigned to be an angel of death. Only I didn't know much about him then. It was a dark time in history and like many others he was drawn into it.  
  
I remember it was during the night. I had taken several people home and I was waiting for my next assignment. When it came, I was sent to wait in the midst of a camp for the man to take. Only when I got there, there were several men all of whom looked to be needing the services of an angel."  
  
-------  
  
In the darkness, Logan could hear the moans of the men around him. Many smelled of approaching death while others reeked of fear and loneliness. The wiry young man was himself a victim of battle, several wounds seeping blood out of his body. He lay as still as possible conserving his strength, hoping for a miracle. As he began to drift off to sleep, a strange smell assaulted him. Looking around and seeing no one, Logan tested the air again. Yes, there was someone nearby but why couldn't he see him?  
  
"Show yerself. I know you're there."  
  
The young man who suddenly appeared seemed surprised.  
  
"How did you—?" he began.  
  
"I could smell ya. Like some kinda exotic tree. Who are ya and why are ya here?"  
  
"My name is Andrew and I'm here to help..someone."  
  
While Logan watched, the tall blonde angel began inspecting the other injured men. He would stop and tilt his head as if listening to the wind. After about the third time, Logan asked what it was that he was listening for.  
  
Again, Andrew was surprised. Most humans reacted with shock at the sight of an angel but this man seemed to take it all in stride.  
  
"I'm waiting for instructions and for confirmation." He made his way to Logan's side. "Can I check your wounds?"  
  
The two eyed one another, each assessing the other. Logan grunted in acquiescence but when Andrew pulled back the makeshift bandages from the young man's chest, his demeanor faltered and he gasped.  
  
"Oh, Father..."  
  
--------  
  
The angelic pair had been sitting so long that the tide had come in and was lapping at their feet. Andrew paused in his story as they walked up toward the tree line. There they made a fire to ward off the fall chill. Andrew put his jacket around Monica's shoulders then turned to stare into the fire.  
  
After a few moments, he glanced sideways at her and began. "There was a hole in his chest, Monica. As big as my hand." He held up his right hand fingers splayed to give her an idea of the damage.  
  
Her eyes went wide. "Oh, Andrew, how awful for you and for him."  
  
"He was so calm. Like it didn't hurt. There was blood everywhere and the other men were moaning but Logan, he..."  
  
--------  
  
"What? What's wrong?"  
  
"Just lay back and be still, Logan."  
  
"How do ya know my name?"  
  
"I know what I'm told."  
  
"Ya got more company coming," Logan replied, "Silver and iron."  
  
Andrew looked around to see if help was coming for this group of men but even the forest was silent. Then beside him appeared two more angels.  
  
"Adam, Michael, sir."  
  
Adam shook Andrew's hand but drew him aside as Michael approached Logan.  
  
His voice was deep as he spoke. "Son, lie still and let the peace of God come upon you."  
  
----------  
  
The young man became very still and as Andrew and Adam watched in awe, they saw the human's body begin to knit itself back together. As tendons, muscles and bones reappeared, the young man flinched but did not move or cry out. At last the skin lay closed as if nothing had happened, only a telltale pink that would fade in a few hours.  
  
Logan opened his eyes to see a trio of angels watching, waiting for him to move.  
  
"So tired," he mumbled.  
  
Michael touched the young man's head gently. "Sleep and rest." He turned to Adam and Andrew. With a wink the arc-angel was gone. A breeze played among the trees and the forest sounds returned to normal. Andrew heard footsteps approach as he and Adam escorted another tired pilgrim home.  
  
---------  
  
"So, ya never did tell me what that wood was called."  
  
Startled, Andrew stood, a protective hand on his companion's shoulder.  
  
"Good thing that sandalwood's not real common 'round here. Neither is pure heather, although it was easier followin' the mocha."  
  
The speaker was short and burly with wiry hair.  
  
"Logan! What are you doing here?" Monica beamed at him. "We were just talking about you."  
  
He sat across from them.  
  
"Did you find your parents?"  
  
"Yeah. It was hard but now I know."  
  
There was an awkward pause, then Andrew asked the obvious question.  
  
"What are you doing here?"  
  
"Got friends in the area. I stay with 'em sometimes. Decided to go for a ride. Picked up yer trail when I stopped for a drink."  
  
"Then you heard the story."  
  
"Yeah, darlin', I heard."  
  
The three sat quietly, listening to the sounds of the crickets and the stars. A log on the fire cracked. Logan spoke again.  
  
"I wanted ta say thanks for yer help. With the memories and all. My friends are relieved ta know that I did have parents." He half grunted at that.  
  
"It's still going to take a while to sort it all out, Logan. Don't get discouraged."  
  
There was another awkward silence.  
  
Logan stood and prepared to leave. "I gotta know, Andrew. Who was that other angel?"  
  
"Adam?"  
  
"Not him. The other one, that smelled like hot forged iron."  
  
"Oh. Him." Andrew looked from Logan to Monica and back again. With a half-smile, half-smirk, he answered. "That was Michael. The Arc-angel."  
  
Logan grunted once and nodded to the pair. As quietly as he came, he left them to watch the embers die out.  
  
--------  
  
Questions, comments accepted. Yes, this is definitely Not canon. So?  



	5. Time In

Time In  
  
Disclaimer: Martha and Stan are to blame for this mess. I'm just cleaning it up.  
  
Rated: G   
  
Time In  
  
What is death?  
  
Whaddya mean?  
  
Well, Logan, you've been around for awhile. You've seen suffering and death on many different scales. What are your thoughts on it?  
  
Hmmph.  
  
Oh come now. Surely you...  
  
Hold yer horses, Chuck. I need a minute ta sort things out. (Pause) Sandalwood.  
  
Beg pardon?  
  
Sandalwood. Death smells like sandalwood 'less of course it's silver. Once it was iron.  
  
Am I to understand that you can actually smell death?  
  
Yeah. I mean everything has a certain identity.  
  
I see. And the differences arise from what?  
  
Different guys.  
  
Explain.  
  
Do ya believe in a higher power, Chuck?  
  
Yes. I suppose I do.  
  
This higher power, suppose It had people working for It...  
  
Angels, Logan? I never pictured you...  
  
(Growl)  
  
Do go on.  
  
I'm just tellin ya what I know.  
  
Hmmm  
  
(aside)Andrew, I could use some help.  
  
Logan, who are you talking to?  
  
No one.  
  
Logan.  
  
Chuck.  
  
(Big pause)  
  
Really. No one is here. If he was, I'd tell ya.  
  
He?  
  
Andrew, Adam. Met Michael once. Henry. The one in Russia, his name was Gregory.  
  
So these persons, beings...  
  
Angels.  
  
Is that what they are?  
  
Has'ta be.  
  
What do you mean?  
  
They aren't here unless they are here. At that point they become real. Sort of. It's hard ta explain.  
  
And you know some of the angels? By name?  
  
I do now.  
  
(Pause)  
  
So death is what?  
  
Death.  
  
But the angels, do they bring death?  
  
No. Not these guys. They remind me of you.  
  
How so?  
  
They try ta help.  
  
Could you give me an example?   
  
Europe. Foxhole. Guy blown in half. Gregory appeared outta nowhere. Talked to the boy in his own language and eased his fears. He went easily after that.  
  
How do you know the boy was comforted?  
  
(Tap. Tap.)  
  
Ah, yes. Your keen sense of smell.  
  
(Awkward pause)  
  
So, the angels of death are male?  
  
Don't know if all of 'em are.  
  
But the ones you've seen?  
  
Yeah.  
  
Are you friends with any of these...gentlemen?  
  
Sorta. Usually see Adam or Andrew.  
  
(Phone rings)  
  
Excuse me a moment, Logan. Hello? Yes. Yes. I'll be right there. There is an emergency, old friend. I must be going. Can we talk again later?  
  
Sure, Chuck.  
  
---------  
  
Comment, anyone, Bueller? Remember, this IS an AU, people. Oh yeah, and props to Madeleine L'Engle for the best explanation on unicorns. Read Many Waters.  



	6. Just A Minute

Just a Minute  
  
Disclaimer: Only borrowed from Stan today. I gave them back.  
  
Rated: G   
  
Just a Minute  
  
Logan?  
  
What?  
  
Could I talk to you for a minute?  
  
I reckon.  
  
(Pause)  
  
Well, out with it. I ain't got all day.  
  
I...I know you've seen some weird stuff in your life...  
  
Yeah?  
  
I saw something. The other day.  
  
And?  
  
(Whisper) Do you believe in angels?  
  
Why?  
  
I met someone.  
  
Icecube, is this conversation goin' ta go somewhere?  
  
She glowed.  
  
And?  
  
She was pretty.  
  
So?  
  
Don't you believe me?  
  
Look, Drake, every week you get a crush on someone new. I ain't keepin' score. You sabe?  
  
But she glowed!  
  
Uh-huh. What's her name?  
  
Uh...I don't know.  
  
Where'd ya see 'er?  
  
At the mall.  
  
Drake...  
  
Honestly, Logan, she really glowed.  
  
Ya sure it wasn't mall lighting?  
  
Well, no.  
  
Don't worry about it none. Now, git ta class.  
  
-------  
  
Conversationally speaking, comments anyone?  
  



	7. Down Time Part One

Down Time Part One  
  
Disclaimer: Martha-angels, Stan-Logan, Michael-God, idea-me. They all played nicely in my sandbox and then they went home.  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Pay attention to the passage of time--part two fits inbetween but is a different POV  
  
Down Time Part One  
  
1:14 p.m.  
  
The yellow stripes on the highway flashed as one as the Harley sailed along on the gray sea of asphalt. Logan was heading out of town. He needed to get away from the Professor and the students at the school. Lately it seemed as if everyone questioned every move he made or tried to read more into what he said. He wanted out and where better to be free than on the road.  
As he sped along, he thought about the past year. Finding acceptance at the school, getting a grip on his shattered memories. For a man who had spent most of his life moving and keeping to the shadows, he felt at peace for the first time in a long while.  
Afternoon turned to evening and he pulled into the parking lot of some small roadside dive. Inside he ordered his food and sat back in the booth sipping his beer.  
His thoughts returned to his family. Closing his eyes, he could see his father. A man of medium build, solidly muscled with wild dark hair and bushy mutton chops. He remembered how his father's gray eyes would flash with humor or glint with anger, how they would focus intently when he was giving instruction or telling a story. 'I believe in you, Son.' Logan could even recall the timbre and cadence of his father's voice.  
  
7:52p.m.  
  
"My Father believes in you as well."  
Logan cracked his eyes open to see Monica sitting across from him, two plates of hot steaming food between them.  
"Where'd ya come from?"  
"Now, Logan, you know the answer to that. Eat."  
  
The pair ate in companionable silence. After the plates had been cleared and the coffee served, Monica spoke.  
"Where are you going?"  
  
"Nowhere particular. Just goin'."  
"Would you like some company?"  
Logan laughed out loud at her query. "Brave, ain't'cha? Last time ya traveled with me..." He paused before changing directions. "Where's Heckle and Jeckle?"  
Monica looked blankly at him.  
Again, Logan had to laugh. "Adam and Andrew?"  
"Oh!" Now, Monica smiled. "Well, Adam is on assignment and Andrew is with my supervisor, Tess."  
  
With a grunt and a nod, the man stood, tossed down a twenty and escorted Monica out to the bike. He made to hand her his helmet but discovered she already had one.  
"Don't ask," she grinned at his look of surprise.  
He shook his head and took a deep breath of the evening air. It was cool and crisp, a starry night. Logan gave Monica his jacket to wear and pulled a flannel shirt out of his saddle bag.  
They started back on the road. Monica settled in behind Logan and rested her head on his back. He, in turn, smiled, a feeling of contentment covering him. Under the stars, they traveled, the occasional streak of light flashing across the sky. Eventually the petite angel fell asleep and awoke only when Logan pulled over to stop.  
"Hey, darlin', ya wakin' up back there?"  
  
"Oh my. I'm sorry, Logan. I don't usually just fall asleep."  
"S'okay."  
They were parked at a highway observation point. He got off the bike and helped her off as well. There was a picnic table nearby so they sat there.  
"It's almost sun up. Thought ya'd want ta see it." His voice held a strange note, a wistfulness she'd not heard in him before.  
"Logan, are you all right?" She searched the rough man's face for a clue, a hint to what could be troubling him.  
But he looked back at her with perfect clarity in his eyes. "My mother'd wake me up so we could greet the sunrise. Hadn't thought of that 'til tonight." He stopped, not knowing what to say.  
"Greeting the sun seems like the best way to honor your mother," Monica replied giving him a hug.  
As the darkness deepened, heralding the sun's imminent arrival, she smiled at him. The peace in his returned smile was illuminated by the sun's multicolored rays stretching over the horizon. In that instant, Monica saw Logan as he truly was: the little lost boy, the old man who had seen too much, the man whose heart had been beaten and broken but had never given up hope.  
A breeze stirred the morning and Monica smiled.  
"Logan, your mother was right about greeting the day. It sets the course for you."  
He nodded and then yawned. With a start, the angel realized that he had ridden all night while she slept rather comfortably against his broad back.  
Logan looked sleepily at her as she removed his jacket and folded it for him to use as a pillow. He laid back on the table, rolling onto his side to face her.  
"Monica, I know ya gotta go in a while. Would ya stay here 'til then?"  
She nodded and held his hand until he was sound asleep. The sun climbed steadily overhead, the shade of the nearby tree barely adequate.  
A small breeze played across the leaves and Monica was joined by a fellow angel.  
"Tess is waiting for you. I'll keep him safe," said the tall man with the dark brown hair.  
Smiling, the petite angel brushed her hand against Logan's cheek before she vanished with a last whisper. "Thank you, Michael." 6:21a.m.  
  
Split Second Interlude  
  
"Well, Miss Wings, did you have a good night sleep?"  
"Oh, Tess, I was so embarrassed when I realized he'd ridden all night."  
"It's okay, baby. There were plenty of angels on stand-by..."  
"Tess!!"  
Laughing, the mahogany angel replied, "You know I love you, Angel- girl. You did good. The Father wanted Logan to be relaxed and content for a time. A respite, if you will."  
"Is there trouble to come?"  
"Oh, baby, you know that we know what we need to know when we need to know it."  
Monica hugged her supervisor tightly. "Did you miss me? Where is Andrew?"  
"Of course I missed you. And Andrew is on assignment."  
"Anything serious?"  
  
"I don't know, Angel-girl."  
  
-------------  
  
Questions, comments, observations from Mars?  



	8. Down Time Part Two

Down Time: Second Half  
  
Disc: See part one  
  
Rated PG  
  
Down Time Part Two  
  
8:41p.m.  
  
Andrew watched as Logan and Monica left the little café. He'd been sent to an assignment nearby that was a close call, down to the last minute actually when an extension was given. Needing to relax, he headed toward the local eatery only to see his best friend leaving with a former assignment.  
The tall blonde angel couldn't understand Monica's fascination with the rough and tumble human. Shaking his head, he entered the café and ordered a sandwich to go. Once back outside, he sat under the immense night sky, reveling in God's handiwork.  
He finished the food as a soft breeze swirled around him. The extension was almost out and he was needed.  
  
11:07a.m.  
  
It was later the following morning when Andrew stopped to rest and refresh himself after escorting the older woman home. There were no words adequate to describe it. It was only known as God's Country, the beautiful place where angels could be in between heaven and earth.  
He hadn't been there long when he discovered that he wasn't alone. In the distance he could see a very tall figure in his true angelic form. Andrew drew closer and was surprised to see the arc-angel Michael with his many wings unfurled. Quietly, he cleared his throat to let the other being know he was there.  
Michael motioned him to come around and to remain quiet. There in the center of the protection of his wings was a human sleeping very soundly on the emerald green grass. The figure stirred slightly as if sensing Andrew's presence. Michael again motioned to the younger angel this time to wait a few minutes before following him. Andrew nodded as the arc-angel and his charge disappeared.  
  
Andrew arrived to see Michael in his human form, watching unseen as Logan prepared to return home. When the human was no longer in sight, he spoke.  
"Where's Monica?"  
"I sent her to be with Tess," replied the dark haired angel, his voice deep. "They are on assignment. Something about high school football."  
"Oh."  
"Andrew, the Father wants me to tell you about some things that are going to happen." 5:35p.m.  
  
-----------  
  
Andrew in trouble, busted or does he know who will win Survivor XXIX? Stay tuned....  



	9. Eternity

Eternity  
  
Disclaimer: Michael is borrowed from God. I returned him asap cuz he had other things to tend to.   
  
Rated G  
  
Eternity  
  
Time. It is endless and it has an end.  
Life. Precious and vital to humans, an amazement to angels.  
Who are we in the grand scheme of things other than intermediaries from Heaven? I wish there was a simple answer for that. Not likely.  
I've seen a lot since time began. More than most. There are only a handful that have been with me from our beginning. All others seem like youngsters.  
And humans? They are a constant source of, oh, wonder and befuddlement. They are bound by time's boundaries. Okay. There are a few that aren't.  
It has been so long since there was an 'old' man. They have a hard life. Aging slower, healing rapidly, leaving the people you know behind.  
I guess that's why the Father assigns me to keep an eye on them. It gives me a break from battling principalities and powers. Most of the time. Now, this new guy, Logan, he is the 'oldest' since, well, since The Cross. He has had a rough go of it. This technological time is running against him and it has become harder for him to hide from both personal enemies and those who would exploit him. He attracts trouble like flies to honey.  
The angels of death have a running bet on who will be called next to visit him. Those guys have a strange sense of humor. At least, Adam does. Andrew, he is heartfelt and justifiably so. The Father made him that way. It was hard taking him to task but he needed to see what I've seen and what I've yet to see.  
Not many angels have the opportunity to bond with another angel like he has. What better companion to compassion can there be than truth? Monica is just right for him. They balance each other well.  
Now I'm just talking.  
Time is moving. Gotta go.  
  
--------  
  
Oh what will happen next?  



	10. Quiet Time

Quiet Time: Andrew's POV  
  
Disclaimer: Martha / Stan, Stan / Martha  
  
Rated G  
  
Quiet Time  
  
9:26p.m.  
  
Logan trusts Monica. Why? Because she sees him as he is, not for what he has done or for what was done to him. She trusts him without reservation.  
  
She trusted Kathleen too. That's cold.  
  
Am I jealous? Maybe. Monica is my best friend and I would do anything to keep her safe.  
  
I think that is where my jealousy lies. I know enough about Logan to know his loyalty is not easily given and neither is his trust. He trusts her like I trust her. She trusts him much like she trusts me and I don't know if I want to share that with anyone.  
  
Now that I think about it, Logan trusts me too.  
  
Huh.  
  
I didn't realize that until now. The accident with the motorcycle, he had no hesitation telling her that Adam and I were angels. He'd never done that before.  
  
The truth? I felt left out when I saw them leave a while ago. But, it was not their fault. Logan needs some time to share of himself. And who better that the angel of truth? Monica does her job well.  
  
I'm sorry, Father, my own selfishness blinded me to Your plan. Please forgive me and help me to see things as You do. 10:02p.m.  
  
--------  
  
Could it get any angstier? Not really....maybe...sort of...  



	11. In Tension

In Tension  
  
Disclaimer: Moonwater owns these.  
  
Rated G  
  
Andrew gets a lecture, sort of.  
  
In Tension  
  
"Angel-boy, you've got some explaining to do."  
  
"Tess, I don't want to hear it right now."  
  
"Well, you are, Andrew, and I'm going to tell you."  
  
The taller green eyed angel held up his hand to forestall the oncoming lecture from the mahogany angel. "No."  
  
"What do you mean, no?"  
  
"I mean that I have already spoke to Michael, or rather, he spoke to me. And I have made my peace with the Father about this situation."  
  
"What about Monica? Angel-girl needs to hear from you and soon," Tess emphasized. "She doesn't understand why you have been avoiding her, or us."  
  
"I will talk to her as soon as I have talked to Logan."  
  
"That boy. He has always raised a ruckus where ever he's been." The dark woman smiled at her angel baby. "Okay, Andrew. Don't wait too much longer though."  
  
"I won't, Tess. Tell her I'll meet her in the park this evening." With that last remark, the angel of death disappeared leaving his friend sitting in her convertible.  
  
"Father, watch over that boy. Please."  
  
-------------------------  
  
Questions, comments, time/space continuum?  



	12. Hang Time

Hang Time  
  
Disclaimer: Again with the Martha and Stan.  
  
Rated G  
  
Two guys apologize.  
  
Hang Time  
  
Andrew stood looking down at Logan as he lay relined against a rock, a battered Stetson covering his face.  
  
"Logan, we need to talk.  
  
The shorter man raised his hat and squinted up at the angel of death.  
  
"What about?"  
  
"I need to apologize to you."  
  
Logan sat up, his curiosity aroused. He glared at the taller man. "Why?"  
  
"Because I was jealous and selfish and I'm sorry."  
  
Shaking his head, Logan replied, "I ain't followin' ya."  
  
"Monica is my best friend and it hurt to see that she trusts you. And I was jealous that she wanted to spend time with you." Andrew looked at his hands, avoiding Logan's piercing stare.  
  
"How long have ya known about me?"  
  
"Since that camp. Why?"  
  
"You tell me, Andrew. Have I ever given ya any cause to doubt me?"  
  
"Well, there was that time..."  
  
"Other that that."  
  
"No."  
  
"Then what's yer point?"  
  
"I don't want her to get hurt."  
  
There was an awkward pause as each man sat absorbed in his own thoughts.  
  
"Do ya trust me?"  
  
"It's not a matter of that."  
  
"Sure it is," snorted the smaller man. "Do ya think that I'd let her be hurt if I could prevent it? Put yerself in my place."  
  
"I have."  
  
Logan sat still, stunned at the truth in the angel's words. "I'm sorry."  
  
There was another difficult pause.  
  
"Are we havin' the same conversation?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
Logan scratched his head in puzzlement. "If I didn't know better, I'd think I was counselin' some of the teenage boys at the school except that I'm part of the problem."  
  
Scratching his own head, Andrew smiled a crooked smile. "Logan, I've seen some of your 'counseling' sessions and this is not one of them."  
  
"Yeah, yer right. Not enough growling."  
  
The two men tried unsuccessfully to hide their grins but soon both were laughing and the tension between them was gone.  
  
"Seriously, Andrew, I won't violate yer trust. Or hers either."  
  
"I know, Logan. Your trust isn't easily given or loyalty easily earned. I appreciate that." Andrew stood to leave. "I'll see you around, old friend."  
  
Pulling the Stetson back over his eyes, Logan leaned back against the rock.  
  
"No problem."  
  
------------------  
  
More fun comming. Dueling POVS. Can you dig it?  



	13. Park Time Job

Park-Time Job  
  
Disclaimer: SURPRISE! Mine, mine, mine, mine. And a weeeee bit of reference to someone else's toys.  
  
Rated G  
  
Park-Time Job  
  
The park was not crowded at dusk. The only ones about were the people watchers and a lone young woman.  
  
"So, Hank, what do you think her story is?"  
  
"I don't know yet. Let's wait a few more minutes."  
  
"Okay."  
  
The pair of older men spent the late afternoon watching the sea of humanity and enjoyed speculating on the stories of the people they observed. They had seen the petite young woman come into the park and sit on the bench. She had been there about ten minutes, sitting peacefully, her auburn hair blowing gently in the breeze. Just after dusk, she was joined by a tall man with blonde hair.  
  
"Ah, waiting for her boyfriend. Just look at that smile, Ray. Like sunshine."  
  
"Yeah, I'd come to the park to see that."  
  
"So. Was he late or on time?"  
  
"I reckon he was on time cuz she wouldn't smile if he was late."  
  
"Rightly so, rightly so."  
  
The woman reached out and took the man's hand as he sat down beside her. They appeared to converse for a few minutes when the woman pulled her head back in surprise.  
  
"Uh-oh, Hank, trouble in paradise. I'll bet he told her there is a new girl at work."  
  
"What makes you think that?"  
  
"Did you see the way she yanked back from him?"  
  
"Yeah, but look at him. He's not letting her get away."  
  
"She doesn't want to get away, I think. She knows he's sorry. See?"  
  
"The head is down. A real Alan Alda, this guy."  
  
"Look now...he's crying. Oh man. It must be bad. Guys don't just cry."  
  
"I don't know. She's crying too. And smiling. I don't get it."  
  
The tall man opened his arms to his companion who fit perfectly. They sat quietly, she with her face buried in his neck, he with his face in her hair. The sun had set long since and the park lights had come on bathing the pair in a golden glow.  
  
"Ray?"  
  
"Yeah?  
  
"I reckon she loves him."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"I reckon he loves her, too."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
The man and woman rose from the bench and walked off into the darkness, fading from sight.  
  
"Night, Ray."  
  
"Night, Hank."  
  
------------------  
  
Read the rest of the story, okay?  



	14. Relax

Relax  
  
Disclaimer: Martha, Martha, Martha...we're not talking Stewart here.  
  
Rated G  
  
The other side of the story.  
  
Relax  
  
Monica came to the park early to enjoy a few minutes alone. She needed to spend some time with the Father. The park was not crowded at dusk. Across the way there were two older gentlemen pretending not to watch her. Closing her eyes, she prayed that there was nothing wrong with Andrew, that she had not done something to make him avoid her. A breeze blew among the trees and played with her hair. It carried the message that all would be well.  
  
Andrew approached quietly, watching his best friend in her meditation. He saw the little lines of worry smooth out as the breeze fluttered over her. She opened her eyes and saw him standing there, a smile of pure joy radiating from her heart.  
  
"Oh, Andrew, I have missed you. Where have you been?"  
  
"Well, Angel-girl, I have been working."  
  
She took his hand as he sat down next to her. They talked a while about some of his recent cases and she filled him in on the football team she coached in Alabama. His green eyes took on a sad cast and she asked him if anything was wrong.  
  
"Monica, I need to apologize to you."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I was jealous of Logan and the time you have been spending with him."  
  
Monica jerked back as if she had been slapped.  
  
"I don't understand, Andrew. Is this why you've been avoiding me?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
She turned away from him needing some space to think but Andrew would not let her leave the bench.  
  
"Monica, you've got to believe me. It wasn't anything you did. It was me. I didn't understand why you were so interested in him. I didn't want to share your trust with him," he said, bowing his head. "I didn't want you to love him."  
  
The Irish angel looked back at her friend, her best friend. She saw the tears on his cheeks and understood what he was trying to say. With tears of her own, she whispered, "Andrew, I will always love you. You are my best friend and the best part of my heart. No one could replace you."  
  
He looked up and saw the love on her face and opened his arms wide. Monica buried herself in his embrace as he hid his face in her hair. Neither moved for a long time. Night lights hummed and flickered like an orchestra warming up. The two sat there unaware that the sun had finished its glorious show and the moon was on its way to the stage. As the two gentleman across the way prepared to leave, the angels rose and walked into the darkness surrounded by a soft golden glow.  
  
--------  
  
Wait, there's more...It slices, it dices, it....well, it doesn't. But there is more....  



	15. Outside

Outside  
  
Disclaimer: Stan the Man and a wee bit for Martha.  
  
Rated G  
  
Ever feel like a third wheel? A different take.  
  
Outside  
  
Logan watched the couple all day. It had not been hard to pick up the scent. Mocha latte and heather were a strange combination, and where she was, he was.  
  
Still a little baffled by the recent conversation with Andrew, he had decided to follow them. To try and figure out what the heck was going on between them. All day and nothing. Oh, the usual hug and some hand holding. A kiss on the cheek. A whisper in the ear. A smile that could light up a city.  
  
Logan had to grin at that. Monica sure did have a great smile. No wonder Andrew felt jealous. He had to stop and think though. Had she ever smiled at him like that? Not that he could remember.  
  
He felt no tension when the Irish angel was around. She expected nothing except the truth from him and had the grace to blush when it wasn't what she thought it was going to be. That's what it was. No tension. It was almost like having a sister. Ouch. Okay. Not quite.  
  
Looking at the pair again, he could see how each reacted to the other, showing a deference and willingness to be not in control of the situation. She would point out things and he would respond. He would bring her something special and she would touch his shoulder just so. Little gestures here and there, connections of affection and thought.  
  
Musing to himself, he decided that one day he would like to have a friendship like these two had. He pulled his Stetson down over his eyes and dozed on the bench. He awakened later to find a small black teddy bear with a single white carnation attached to it sitting on his chest. The smell of heather and sandalwood was unmistakable and Logan just grinned.  
  
-------  
  
More, you say? Okay. One more chapter. Action, adventure and special guest star!  



	16. Here and Now

Here and Now  
  
Disclaimers: God, Martha Williamson, Stan Lee and me. I own the bad guys. I'm going to sell them on ebay when this is over. Any takers?  
  
Rated PG-teenish for semi-gore and implied violence.  
  
AN: Think Frank Peretti.  
  
Here and Now  
  
Monica and Logan walked along the country road in silence. On a whim, she had popped in to see how he was doing and upon seeing his good humor, suggested going for a walk. They had strolled into the countryside where people were scarce.  
  
Beside her Logan sighed deeply and she glanced at him in concern.  
  
"I've known a lot of people in my life."  
  
She grinned at him. "I'm sure you have."  
  
"Yeah." Another deep sigh.  
  
"Logan. What's troubling you?"  
  
"Ah, darlin'. It's the people I can't remember. People who were important ta me," replied the man as he picked up a stone and hurled it across a field. He grunted as birds scattered in all directions.  
  
"My memories are like that sometimes."  
  
He sounded so dejected. Monica reached out to touch his arm, to reassure him. He covered her hand with his and looked sideways at her.  
  
"Ah, don't fret. Yer much too young ta be worried about an ol' canuck like me."  
  
The irony of the statement struck her and she laughed with him.  
  
"Oh, Logan. I'm way older than you."  
  
"I know, darlin', but ya don't look a day older than me."  
  
------  
  
The sun was overhead now. Logan grabbed Monica's hand and they cut across a pasture until they came to a copse of trees. Once under the shade, he led her to a small stream.  
  
"How lovely and cool!"  
  
Logan showed Monica where to pick some late season berries and then he set to catching some fish.  
  
Later, as they ate, he told the Irish angel of the fragments he had remembered. Monica listened intently to the man across from her and to her Father.  
  
The afternoon wore on and the two became drowsy. Monica curled up in a space by the giant tree while Logan settled in an upper branch. The hazy heat seemed to press them into a deep yet uneasy sleep.  
  
------  
  
Logan awoke from a nightmare of grabbing hands and wild dogs. The air was heavy with the smell of sulfur. It overwhelmed his senses and for a moment he felt himself slipping out of control. Growling at himself, he shook his head to clear the cobwebs. Voices pierced the air below him. As he became re-oriented, Logan could see that the tree was surrounded by a pack of the ugliest dogs he'd ever seen. He turned toward the sound of the voices. One was angry and frustrated and the other was oily and smooth. He saw Monica in a heated argument with someone twice her size.  
  
"You cannot come here like this!" she shouted.  
  
The stranger's reply was calm and smooth. "Sure I can. He invited me, in his dreams. Me, my...minions, even the dogs."  
  
Monica took a deep breath to think and center herself. She was still in her earthly form but could feel a cool breeze softly whirling around her, reminding her of who was ultimately in control.  
  
"Aragone, you know that is not how it works.." Her voice held steely resolve.  
  
The horrid creatures that stood loosely surrounding her stepped back at that.  
  
"My dear angel, I am here now and there is nothing you can do." The tall, powerfully built man turned to point to the tree where Logan was sitting. "Only he can. We will see how he fares in this...encounter."  
  
The man in question was assessing the situation with his many years of experience. Nothing prepared him for this. He had no doubts he could take the big guy but the creepy people and the dogs, those gave him pause. And Monica was surrounded.  
  
As if she heard his thoughts, she began to walk toward him.  
  
"Logan, no matter what happens, remember what I told you before. That God loves you and He created you to be the man you are."  
  
The creepy things murmured at this pronouncement and began to close in on the Irish angel.  
  
"You are a man, God's beloved creation."  
  
Aragone watched in amusement as she tried to shake loose from her captors.  
  
"Call on Him, Logan. Don't try to go alone." She was closed in now and they pushed her down cutting her off.  
  
With a terrible roar, Logan leapt from the tree, over the heads of the pack onto the pile on the ground.  
  
'If I can just get her loose,' he thought as he plunged into the inhuman mass. He had the sensation of being icy numb and burning hot simultaneously. Blindly, Logan groped for the angel. The stench of the sulfur was so bad that he almost missed the cool breeze with the hint of heather in it. More of the inhumans pressed in as he plowed toward Monica. In the midst of the extreme temperature variations, he felt a still calm form on the ground and struggled to raise her up through the masses. Logan stood upright, cradling Monica in his arms. His quick assessment surprised him. She appeared to be sleeping and had a peaceful look on her face.  
  
The sound of clapping caused him to look over to the giant figure of Aragone.  
  
"Well done, little man," the larger man sneered. His olive complexion darkened as he continued to speak. "You've got her. What are you going to do?" Aragone pointed at Logan's legs. The inhuman mass was now just that—a mass that burned his legs with icy numbness.  
  
Now was one of the times that he truly didn't know what to do, what action he could take. He couldn't put Monica down. She would sink under the goo. He couldn't fight because his arms were full. He couldn't even walk because his legs were numb. And he wasn't sure about the smart-mouth that confronted him.  
  
"Smart-mouth, huh?" Aragone's voice dripped with sarcasm. "You truly don't understand do you? This is your creation. Your idea. Your fault. You invited me here."  
  
Logan grunted as he shifted Monica in his arms. "She said differently."  
  
"Well, yes, you could look at it that way but it seems to me that I'm in control at the moment."  
  
-------  
  
Logan considered this. He tried to move forward but the mass seemed to get colder. His legs began to ache. A tiny warm wind puffed at his hair and a thought tickled at the back of his mind.  
  
'What was it Monica said?'  
  
"Who cares what she said? She's out cold." Aragone studied his fingernails.  
  
'Focus, Logan.'  
  
"Any day now, little man."  
  
'What did she say?' The numbness in his legs was now to his waist. Monica still rested quietly in his arms.  
  
"Why don't you put her down? Then you can get out of the mess."  
  
Logan glared.  
  
"She's only going to get heavier."  
  
The ooze around his legs seemed to grow even colder but he knew if he put the angel down she would be—well, he wasn't too sure what would happen exactly.  
  
"She'll be fine. Put her down, get loose, warm-up and if you think you can take me, then come on."  
  
The challenge was so very tempting. Logan's back and arms were trembling from the aching cold and the effort of keeping Monica aloft. The niggling thoughts at the back of his mind wouldn't go away. Again, the small warm breeze caressed his face and he made a decision.  
  
"This is your last chance, little man. Take me on now or you will lose everything."  
  
"I won't do it."  
  
Aragone looked surprised. "What do you mean?"  
  
"I'm saying, wise guy, that I. Won't. Do. It" Logan grasped Monica closer. "I won't leave her to fight ya. I. Can't."  
  
"Then you and she will both die," replied Aragone, his face darkening with anger. He gestured to the black oozing mass and it began to envelope the bruised pair. Logan lifted Monica as high as he could and tried to breath slowly. In the distance he saw a soft glow. Closing his eyes, he murmured so only he could hear, "Oh, God, please help us," then everything went black.  
  
---------  
  
Andrew approached Aragone, a sad smile on his face.  
  
"Aragone."  
  
"Andrew."  
  
The silence was deafening. To the side the ooze bubbled and writhed.  
  
"Let them go."  
  
"He's mine!"  
  
"He is called."  
  
"His arrogance called me!"  
  
"Your arrogance has felled you many times, Aragone."  
  
"I will NOT leave!" yelled the dark man as he flared into his true form—dark, sulfuric, evil.  
  
"So be it."  
  
There was a flash of blinding light and the smell of hot forged iron permeated the air. A being taller that Andrew appeared. Dark headed, heavily muscled and scarred, Michael the arc-angel made his entrance. He pulled his sword and began to engage Aragone in battle.  
  
"M-M-Michael..." the dark being wavered under the light being's assault.  
  
"He has called. Do You have a problem with that?"  
  
"HE is MINE!"  
  
"No, he has called on God and he is not ALONE!"  
  
With a mighty surge, the arc-angel overpowered the dark prince and there was another flash of light—red this time. Aragone was gone.  
  
Michael turned his sword toward the black mass and began to make surgical cuts. The pieces fell away, shrieking before they disappeared. Andrew stood close by, waiting. A soft glow came from beneath the mass. The green-eyed angel breathed a sigh of relief but a look of concern came immediately as the breeze whispered in his ear.  
  
"Hurry, Michael, there isn't much time."  
  
"Aye, lad." The mighty angel sheathed his sword. He placed one hand on the buried pair and raised the other to Heaven. The blackness began to drip away. Monica appeared first, still curled in a peaceful sleeping position. Michael took her from the frozen arms that literally had a death grip on her. Andrew laid Logan's stiff body gently on the ground. There was no sign of life but there was hope.  
  
Monica awoke to the gentle smile of the fearsome arc-angel. "Michael? Where is Logan? How is he?"  
  
"Not good. It will be very close. He has to choose to live this time."  
  
The two angels joined Andrew and began to pray. Tess appeared briefly to speak to Monica then left. Gregory and Adam showed up next followed by Henry. Soon there were more that a dozen angels gathered around the still figure.  
  
"He's so cold," whispered Monica to Andrew.  
  
He nodded. "I know. Evil leaves a cold that is hard for the human body to overcome. Didn't you feel it?"  
  
"Only for a moment. The Father drew me into His arms and I was at peace until I woke up and saw Michael."  
  
"He never faltered, lassie, not once. Oh, he was tempted but he didn't allow himself to accept it."  
  
The angels kept watch through the night, ministering to the fallen man, praying and keeping vigil. It was close to sunrise when Logan tried to move. He was not yet conscious as his lungs drew in a long awaited breath.  
  
Shortly thereafter, Tess arrived with a young man in tow. He looked around slowly, trying to understand the picture before him. Seeing his friend prone on the ground, the young man rushed over. He dropped to his knees and gripped Logan's cold hand.  
  
"Merde!"  
  
"Yes, baby, now you see why we need your help," said Tess, her gentle eyes smiling at the lad.  
  
He turned to look at Monica who sat with Logan's head cradled in her lap and at Andrew who stood next to her.  
  
"Dis...dis is too much. Remy, he don' know if he can do it. What cause dis? Dis evil?"  
  
"That's exactly it, Remy, it was a great evil, a personal evil that Logan battled, for my sake and his."  
  
Tess laid her hand on the young man's head. "Babies, this is young Mister LeBeau. He has a secret gift, much like Logan does."  
  
The milling angels began to draw close. They loved to see the Father's creations in action, using the gifts He gave His children.  
  
Dropping her voice to a whisper, Tess continued. "Remy has the ability to generate heat, a healing warmth to an injured friend. He is afraid of his gift. It can be very deadly when abused, but today the Father has called him to help us, help Logan in this time of need." She reached for the hand of Adam who was nearest her and the angels formed a tight circle around the small group. The dark-skinned angel then nodded to Monica who began to speak.  
  
"Remy, don't be afraid. God is with you even now." She recognized him from a previous visit with Logan and smiled. He in turn looked her in the eyes and she noticed that they were bright brown, almost red. "Why, you have the sight of sunrise in your eyes!" she exclaimed. "How beautiful!"  
  
The young man looked at his hands, at his fallen friend, at the rising sun and at the circle of angelic beings around him. A large powerful angel appeared next to Monica and knelt between them.  
  
"Lad, now is the time. You must try now or he will lose this battle," said Michael.  
  
Remy glanced once more toward the rising sun and laid his hands gently on Logan's chest. He tried to focus on his hands but nothing happened. He felt more than saw the glow from the circle of angels. The warmth of their love washed over him and for the first time in his life, he felt true hope. His hands began to tingle and glow a soft white. Concentrating, he pictured the warmth flowing into the still form beneath his hands. Cold being pushed out, cell by cell, replaced by life precious and warm.  
  
An eternity of a few minutes passed. Suddenly, Logan heaved and gulped for air like a drowning man. Remy made to lift his hands but Michael motioned him to stay. "He's fighting the darkness."  
  
------------------------  
  
A sea of black. Logan was falling through a sea of darkness. He cried out—"God, can you hear me?" He felt a flash of heat then a warmth brush across his weightless body but the black was unyielding. "God, help me?!!"  
  
----------------------  
  
Michael pushed Remy's hands hard. "Now, boy! NOW!" His mighty voice boomed across the fields. A stiff wind brushed through the circle and one by one the angels touched Logan's forehead.  
  
"You are not alone."  
  
"You have never been alone."  
  
"God is with you."  
  
"You are special."  
  
"You are His creation."  
  
"You are not alone."  
  
Remy could feel the power building in his arms. His hands glowed white hot now, too bright to see.  
  
-------------------  
  
"I don't want to be alone!"  
--You are not alone—a voice whispered.  
  
"I've been alone too long!"  
--You've never been alone—  
  
"God, where are you?"  
--God is with you—  
  
"Why me?"  
--You are special—  
  
"Why ME?"  
--You are His creation—  
  
"I don't want to be alone."  
--You are not alone—  
  
----------------------  
  
There was a white flash and the darkness was gone. Logan blinked against the morning sun. His vision seemed blurry. There were at least a dozen sunspots near him, some right next to him. And a kid. The skinny auburn-haired Cajun. He had a stupid grin on his face. Logan blinked again and tried to sit up.  
  
"Easy there. You had a long night," Monica said, her Irish brogue sounding like cool water to his ears.  
  
"Monica, Gumbo," he croaked, "What..."  
  
"Dey angels. Dat be strange, non?"  
  
As the tired man watched in awe, the angels began to fade. When there were only five left, Logan tried speaking again. "Why?"  
  
It was Michael who answered. He stepped away from the group, drew his sword and unfurled his wings in all of God's glory.  
  
"For the Glory of the LAMB!"  
  
"He shore kno' how to make an exit, no?"  
  
Andrew and Adam helped Logan to his feet.  
  
"How are you feeling?" asked Monica.  
  
"'Bout like I been executed," came the rough reply. "I think I'll live."  
  
"Well, good. Now , you get yourself on home. They're bound to be looking for your sorry old self sooner or later," Tess said with a tiny grin.  
  
"Tess!" Andrew was shocked.  
  
"Nah, she's right. They'll be looking fer me an' my neon sign," sighed Logan. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders and threw an arm around Remy.  
  
"Let's git home..."  
  
"How we gon' 'splain dis?"  
------------------  
  
As the pair disappeared down the road, Tess turned to the remaining three angels. "You too! Get yourselves in gear! We got work to do!"  
  
"Yes, ma'am!" came the chorus reply.  
  
The sun smiled once again upon the now quiet pasture.  
  
------------------  
  
The end...of In Time, In Tense. This series brought to you by GM. At GM, we are general mutant people. And by TGIF. Thank Goodness it's Freaky. All questions and comments are appreciated. There are a few more in this AU and will be posted soon. C-ya then.  



	17. Angels We Have Heard Say 'Hi'

Logan's Christmas Carol (or "Angels We Have Heard Say 'Hi'")

This is more of the In Time, In Tense story AU. It is NOT the Marvel explanation of Logan's background--sheesh, the guy was confused enough before all that. It still has TBAA crossover elements and remarks about other (not in this AU) X-men. This part occurs about eight months after Here and Now.

Disclaimer: Martha and Stan own their stuff. I just borrow and return in better condition.

Rating: PG

Logan's Christmas Carol (or "Angels We Have Heard Say 'Hi'")

Logan stood outside in the cold night air. The stars seemed far away tonight. He pondered going back inside the mansion that served as the school where he occasionally taught. 'Nah, too much cheer, getting ready to go home for the holidays.'

Jamming his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket, he started walking toward the edge of the school grounds. He found a bench near a tree and sat back. 'Why am I mopin'?' he asked himself. He imagined Scott's reply. 'Getting angsty in your old age, Logan?' Allowing himself a small chuckle, he turned to gaze back at the light from the school. Even at this distance he could hear the faint melody of the Christmas carols on the breeze. 'Nat King Cole,' he thought, 'I always liked him.' A twinkle in the sky caught his attention and he watched a streak of light race across the sky. He was still studying the stars when a voice sounded behind him.

"Mr. Logan?"

He turned, knowing it was the new student. 'What was her name again? So many come and go.'

"Hi, I'm Gloria."

Logan grunted.

"Are you going to be here for Christmas? This is my first one away from home and it is all new to me. So many things to take in and see. Anyway, the Professor wanted me to ask if he should plan on your staying this year. Where would you go? Didn't someone say you were old? You don't look very old, but then..." she trailed off as she watched him watch her, waiting for a break in the deluge. "I'm so, so sorry. I tend to run on sometimes. It's just so new, all of this stuff."

Tilting his head, Logan appraised the young woman before him. She looked the right age but had a naitivety that didn't quite jive.

"Um, Mr. Logan.."

"Just Logan."

"Oh, okay. The Professor is waiting for an answer." Gloria beamed at him.

The night breeze blew between the two, causing Logan's unruly hair to wave wildly about. A thought occurred to him.

"Tell the Prof that I'm goin' home this year."

With that, Logan began walking toward the garage where his Harley was parked. Gloria trotted along side, chattering as they went.

"So where is home? Will your parents be there? What is your favorite part of Christmas? Why do you ride a motorcycle in this weather? Won't you get cold? Why do they call you 'old man'? How—"

The 'old man' held up his hand to forestall anymore question and asked one of his own. "Did the Prof send ya ta come with me?"

Perplexed, Gloria replied "No."

"Then get on," he said as he handed her a helmet and heavy jacket.

The roar of the Harley split the stillness of the night as it surged out of the garage. Its departure was observed from the second floor of the school. A gentleman in a wheelchair turned to the auburn haired woman standing before him.

"You knew he would go."

"Yes," said the woman.

"And you knew he would take your friend. How?"

Smiling, the petite woman replied, "There are more things in heaven and earth of which ye know not of, Charles." With that she left the room.

As quickly as he could, the Professor wheeled to the door, but the hallway was empty. Returning to the window, he steepled his fingers together and pondered the infinite spread of stars glistening like diamonds in the velvet night sky.

----------

Gloria was in the dark. Literally. She was riding late at night on a motorcycle in winter with a man she didn't know to a place she didn't know. And why? Because that was her assignment. To learn about Christmas by helping someone else remember it. That part she didn't quite understand but the Father always knew and He would let her know at the right time. The petite brunette took as deep a breath of fresh air as her helmet would allow and settled in to enjoy the physics of the ride.

Meanwhile Logan's head was about to explode. His olfactory sense was working overtime. The smell of cherry blossoms in close proximity was strong. 'What did she do, bathe in them?' And then the memories started, pouring into his mind like a flash flood. Recent memories of time spent in Japan, studying various fighting styles, among other things. A tinge of heartache tweaked his emotions but he shoved it aside. 'Focus, Logan,' he told himself. He was glad that he was almost to his destination. The torrent was about to overwhelm his senses. If he was alone, he would've crashed, but the arms around his waist forced him to zero in on his exit. 'Just a few more minutes.' He gunned the bike faster causing Gloria to gasp at the sudden acceleration. She had no idea of the emotional wringer Logan was in.

They arrived at a gated area and Logan stopped the bike, barely keeping it upright. Tearing off his helmet, he stumbled through the gate and ran blindly toward the tree line.

"Mr. Logan, wait!" Gloria struggled with her helmet. As she got it off, she lost sight of him as he disappeared into the trees. "Father?"

A warm breeze snaked through the cool night and swirled around the newest angel. It seemed to tell her to stay with him and to do what was needed.

"Okay."

She went through the gate and followed as best she could in the darkness. The trees were thick enough to blanket the starlight but Gloria could hear Logan crashing around ahead of her. The noise stopped and she knew he was close. Coming into a clearing, she saw the man hunched over on the ground, his hands gripping his head as if in great pain.

A sudden sympathy welled up within her and she approached the distraught man. "Mr. Logan," she whispered, "How can I help you?"

At this point Logan could not even hear her. His memories had totally taken over. All he could see was his mother and father and past Christmases. The sounds, smells, feelings had him immersed. "Too—much. Too fast," he managed to grind out. Inhaling sharply, he caught the scent of cherry blossoms. "Kid, sing fer me."

Gloria nodded. The mysterious breeze fluttered by and she began to sing the Christmas carol of her namesake.

---

--Angels we have heard on high....

His mother waking he and his father...

--Sweetly singing o'er the plain....

With her sweet contralto voice...

--And the mountains in reply...

His father humming along...

--Echoing their joyous strains

The light and the fire dancing in time...

--Come to Bethlehem and see...

His father reading from the Bible...

--Him whose birth the angels sing...

From Luke the second chapter...

--Come adore on bended knee...

The angels, shepherds and wise men...

--Christ, the Lord, the newborn King!

His family kneeling in a circle of Love.

---

Logan looked up to see a radiant Gloria singing praise to her Father who created all things. He closed his eyes and reveled in the sound. The puzzle pieces fell into place then. Christmas time, cherry blossoms and carols. Things that reminded him of his mother especially.

The petite angel finished her song and waited quietly for the man in front of her to open his eyes. When he did, she saw a deep peace there.

"Is this your home?" Gloria asked.

Logan nodded.

"But I don't see anything."

He pointed to a spot behind her. Turning, she saw the grave marker. The angel moved closer to read the inscription and looked back at Logan, questions tumbling like water over a fall.

"Is that you? Are these your parents? This was your home? Where exactly is this place? How long have you been gone? Is this why they call you 'old man'?"

A single eyebrow went up at that.

"Sorry," Gloria grinned sheepishly. "So, are you going to answer?"

"Kid, how old are you?"

"You mean my real age?"

He nodded.

"Only about a year."

"Figures."

She tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

"Ask Monica." He got up, took her hand and headed back toward his bike. Once there, he put on his helmet. "Thanks, Kiddo. I'm goin' back to the school now. Tell Monica I said 'Hi'."

Gloria stood there, looking after the strange man she had helped. The warm breeze returned and caressed her face.

"Well done, my good and faithful child."

She smiled and disappeared in the night.

------------

Questions? Comments? Anyone--Bueller? Bueller? 


	18. Freedom

"Freedom"

Here is the sequel to "Logan's Christmas Carol". You might need a hankie. Let me know. I'll send you one....More of the TBAA AU and lots of references to Xavier's Academy.

Freedom

Chapter One

July 2nd late evening

Explosions split the night as Logan tried to sleep. He pulled the pillow over his head to block the noise and to difuse the light. 'Whose bright idea was it to have the students do fireworks for a science project?' he wondered. 'And why do they have to practice tonight?'

He could hear some of the young men and women outside, laughing at the silliness of some of their peers' handiwork. Growling to himself, he stormed out of bed and got dressed. His boots sounded loudly on the stairs but he figured that no one else was sleeping anyway. He passed the group of youngsters in a huff and they watched as his Harley roared out of the garage and into the night.

Logan was only a few miles outside of town when a cool breeze blew across the road. He pulled over and stopped at the empty rest area. Turning off his bike, he waited.

A few minutes later, a red convertible pulled up beside him. The passenger side window rolled down.

"Get in," called a soft Irish brouge.

He stowed his bike behind the lonely building and climbed into the car.

Monica greeted him with a smile and a hug. "Oh, Logan. It is so good to see you."

"Same here, darlin'. Where's the Kid?"

"Gloria? She's with Tess right now, but she'll be along."

Nodding, the man settled in for the ride.

The duo rode in companionable silence for quite a while. Monica hummed a soft lullably while Logan dozed. It was well past two a.m. when the car came to a stop. A figure in the road caused the angel to gasp and the human to awaken.

"Andrew!!"

-----

Chapter Two

July 3rd early morning

At Monica's cry, Logan was instantly awake. He saw the glowing figure in the road and recognized the angel of death.

Andrew dashed over to the driver's side and opened the door. "Monica--Hi, Logan--we need to get to Tess and Gloria right away." He slid in as Monica moved to the middle of the front seat. Slamming the car into gear, he set out down the highway at a fast pace.

Glancing past the Irish angel, Logan asked, "The Kid okay?"

"For now, she is but her assignment isn't doing so well."

"What's wrong?" This from Monica.

"Do you remember the diner and note incident from a few years ago?" Seeing his friend nod, he continued. "Jeff was doing well until he suffered a minor stroke. The imbalance in his brain has caused some of his memories to shift and his wife was needing some help. The Father sent Gloria to be their part time housekeeper. Everything seemed to be going in the right direction until the approach of the holiday." Andrew paused and Logan broke in.

"Fireworks, right?"

"How did you know?"

The shorter man grunted. "I guessed. That's what woke me up tonight."

"So what are we to do to help?" asked Monica.

The green-eyed angel shrugged. "I'm not sure. I know that we need to be there and that Logan is supposed to be there as well."

There was a raised eyebrow at that.

"You two get some sleep. We'll arrive in a few hours."

Logan leaned his head back against the seat and dozed off. Monica turned toward Andrew.

"You know more that your are telling," she said.

"Yes, Angel-girl, I do. But it isn't for you to know right now." He looked at her with compassion in his eyes. "You'll know when the time is right." He stroked a finger along her cheek then pulled her close. Kissing the top of her head, he whispered, "Get some rest."

-----

Chapter Three

Monica awoke with her head against Andrew's chest. The car was pulling into a driveway. The Irish angel sat up and looked at the time. It was four-thirty in the moring. Darkness lay over the neighborhood as the trio got out of the car. Tess came out of the house to greet them.

"Angel-babies," she said quietly as she gave each a big hug. Logan looked on in amusement until she caught him in one as well. "Well, 'Old Man', it's been awhile, hasn't it, baby?"

Shrugging her off, he replied, "Where's the Kid?"

"She's inside with Jeff and Alicia. He's gotten worse." Tess led the way into the house. Once in the living room, she continued. "The flashbacks are the only thing real to him now. He can't see Lici anymore. He's trapped in his mind during the war. Monica, the Father wants you to see what he is seeing. And you," she pointed to Logan, "Are going to help."

A cry came from the master bedroom where Gloria was trying to calm the disoriented man. The auburn haired angel grabbed the wiry human's hand and rushed in. Monica immediately began to see what the thrashing man was seeing in his mind and she gasped at the carnage. Logan moved past her and pinned the larger man down. He looked at the face of the invalid and his own memories flashed before him.

"Jeff. Jefferson Archie!"

A woman beside the bed looked up and saw him. "Do you know my husband?"

"Yeah. We met during the war."

"You don't look old enough to know him," Alica Archie said with suspicion.

Gloria was standing beside the woman and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Mrs. Archie, Logan is here to help us."

"He's with you?" She cast a questioning look at the shorter man. Scruffy boots, jeans and a t-shirt didn't quite line up with Gloria's own attire. Sighing, she brushed the hair out of her husband's face. "Please help him. I'm not ready for him to go."

A gentle breeze whispered through the room and Monica stepped behind Logan.

"Mrs. Archie?"

"Alica."

"Alica, your husband is trapped in a situation he experienced during the war. He can't seem to get past it." Monica began to shine softly. "God has given me the gift of being able to see the truth behind things. Only since Jeff is unable to get past this place in his mind, I need to know what happens next."

Before the woman could answer, Logan did.

"I know."

-----

Chapter Four

Logan's answer stunned them.

"I know what happened."

Gloria walked around the bed and took his hand.

"Can you show me?"

"How?"

Monica put her hand to Logan's forhead and place the younger angel's hand on top of hers.

Suddenly Gloria could see a jungle situation. She heard gunfire and artillery in a constant pounding. She flinched until she realized that she was seeing through someone else's eyes.

Beside her, Monica spoke. "Yes, this is what Logan knows. Let me show you Jeff's memory and we'll put them together."

The scene changed only slightly. Gloria could see many children running ahead of her and another man off to the side. There was an explosion and the second man fell. She aproached him and saw that he was dead. She picked up the small child that the man had been carrying and continued after the other youngsters. She came upon a river and a hiding place where they stayed as night fell. Children were all around her, clinging and crying. She shushed them and told them they needed to be quiet and soon all were in a restless sleep. She heard a noise, saw a bright flash and then the children began running again.

Monica spoke again. "This is where Jeff cannot get past. Now for Logan."

The scene shifted back and Gloria heard the pounding of the artillery and gunfire again. She hurried through the underbrush with a sense of urgency. She stopped to smell the air. There. That hot iron scent. She followed it to the edge of the river. Pausing, she took careful stock of the surrounding and almost missed the slight displacement of the bushes to the far right. She approached, her guard up and senses tuned to the war around her. Using the end of her gun, she slowly moved the bushes aside to find, of all things, the missing Army lieutenant and a group of small children. Grinning, she quietly woke the sleeping man and informed him that help was close by and that they were in good hands.

Gloria blinked in surprise when Monica removed her hand. "It was so real."

The Irish angel nodded. "It was real and it is to Jeff right now." She turned to Alicia who had watched the proceedings in silence. "You've been his truest friend and companion."

Andrew entered the room, unseen, and stood by the head of the bed. Monica nodded to him and took the human woman's hand. "Alicia, his time is short. Once he remembers, you will need to say good-bye."

Without a word, she lay down on the bed beside her husband, holding him as she had many times in their long marriage. Times when he had cried out in the night looking for the children, times when nightmares had taken hold, times when he awoke in relief to find her holding him, times recently when what was lost had been found. She stroked his hair as he silently went through the vicous memory once again.

Logan respectfully stepped back, knowing that Andrew was present, and watched as a part of his own wounded memory was used to heal another's. Gloria moved to stand beside him and he put his arm around her shoulders.

Monica saw through Jefferson Archie's eyes one last time. She opened her eyes to see a scruffy soldier looking at her with a finger to his lips. "Help's coming. Yer in good hands." She could see no more and looked down at the man on the bed.

Alicia looked into her husband's eyes and saw the deep love there she had always known. Tenderly, she kissed him and watched as his eyes slowly closed one last time. She lay her head next to his and went to sleep with her arms around him. He was at peace now and morning would be soon enough...

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Chapter Five

July 4th afternoon

The funeral had ended an hour ago. Alicia Archie had honored her husband's request to be buried in his own town. Many people had shown up. Men and women with families had been greeted by Alicia and were assured that their Lt. was at true peace. "He's free now," she had said. "Nothing can hold him back."

Logan watched from a small hill as the casket was lowered into the ground. He didn't turn as Gloria walked up beside him. She took his hand.

"Are you ready to go?"

He only nodded and allowed himself to be led to the red caddy. Andrew was in the driver's seat and Monica stood waiting outside the car. She gave Logan a hug and smiled through her tears.

"I'll be seeing you around, my friend." She and Gloria stepped back as he got into the car.

Andrew gave a small wave to the pair and drove off toward the school. The two men rode in silence for most of the trip.

"She said he was free."

Andrew glanced over at the smaller man. "Yes, he is."

Logan closed his eyes. "When will it be my time ta be free?" he whispered.

The angel of death pulled into the rest stop and turned off the car. "I honestly don't know. You have a purpose that only the Father understands." They got out of the car and walked over to the hidden bike. "Here is where you try to find one kind of freedom. You try to be free from those who want to know you. You, more than any other human alive, know the true price of freedom. And in that, you are free."

Logan got on the Harley.

"Thanks, Andrew."

"Logan, go home. Be with those who freely accept who you are."

The angel watched as the bike roared off into the early evening. Tess, Monica and Gloria appeared next to him. "Want to see some fireworks?" he asked.

-----

Chapter Six

July 4th late evening

Logan was surprised when he pulled up to the mansion's garage. In front was a small group of students apparently waiting for his return. He barely had time to remove his helmet before they converged on him. The air was filled with various apologies and exclamations.

"We are, like, soooo glad you made it back in time."

"Yeah, we didn't realize how loud we were being."

"It was Bobby's fault."

"Was not!"

Logan grinned as the melee continued around him. He was propelled forward to the south lawn where blankets and chairs had been set up to watch the final efforts of the school science project. He had been thinking about what Andrew had said and now allowed himself to be enveloped by the acceptance around him.

"Hey, Logan!" yelled Scott Summers. "Come sit by us. We saved you a place."

The wiry man simply shook his head as the group of youngsters continued to move him to a spot of their choosing. They stopped next to a man in a wheelchair long enough for him to whisper "They have been told that you served during the war, Logan" before being directed to a sweet spot up front.

"Sit here, Logan."

"Next to me!"

"Go away, Bobby."

"Yourself, Jubes."

He found himself ensconced on a pile of pillows, surrounded by young people. The whole school and even some of their families were out on the lawn. As nine o'clock approached the crowd quieted and the music began. Original arrangements of patriotic favorites by students were punctuated by rocket bursts and whistling shells filled with combustive color. An occasional "That's mine!" floated on the air as well.

Explosions split the night and Logan smiled. He was free.

-------

Author's note: There is a story about Jefferson Archie that I will post if anyone is interested. It will be in another category though. Let me know what you think of my ansty little AU.


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